Shacklebolt
by HedwigBlack
Summary: A drabble collection celebrating the badass that is Kingsley Shacklebolt. For the 20 drabbles, 20 prompts challenge.
1. Chapter 1

**This is for the 20 drabbles, 20 prompts challenge on the HPFC forum. I decided Kingsley deserved some love. I will try to have him interact with a different character in each drabble. Or maybe not... whatever the prompt inspires. :)**

**Prompt #1: ice cream**

* * *

Kingsley walked soundlessly through the narrow hall in Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, careful not to wake Mrs. Black's sleeping portrait. He went into the kitchen in search of Arthur, but instead, he found that the room's only occupant was Molly. Her front was covered in flour and she was talking to herself. Wooden spoons and pots were moving of their own accord as she struggled to remember a particular recipe.

She looked up and saw him and before he could make his excuses she sat him down on a stool and began setting food in front of him. He smiled warmly at her and he knew that he couldn't refuse. She needed to take care of somebody and all her children were at school and from the looks of it she'd been alone all morning with Kreacher mumbling obscenities in the corner.

She put a bowl of ice cream on the table in front of him and chattered away. He didn't like ice cream, but he didn't have the heart to tell her so, and he had to admit that a small part of him liked the feeling of being taken care of.

He ate it anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

**Prompt #2: computer**

* * *

Kingsley silently shook his head as heard Tonks smash a plate in the kitchen of Number Four Privet Drive. The girl really ought to be more careful. Making too much noise could get an Auror in some deep trouble. He flicked his wand at the shattered bits of glass and they reassembled themselves.

He looked about the room and took in the cleanliness of it all, while Mad Eye and Remus quietly discussed a plan of action. It practically sparkled. He leaned on the island counter and picked up what he recognized as a Muggle laptop computer. He turned it over to inspect it. The things those Muggles came up with…

A noise upstairs caught his attention and he looked up to see that the rest of the Order had heard it too. Moody motioned to the rest of them to file into the hall. He was the last to leave the kitchen and by the time he had joined the group at the foot of the stairs, the object of their late night visit was walking slowly down the staircase, wand raised.

Kingsley found it rather difficult not to stare. The likeness was too uncanny.

Scrawny build and green eyes aside, the boy looked just like James.


	3. Chapter 3

Prompt #3: Numbers

* * *

_"You have until midnight."_

The chilling voice was still ringing in Kingsley's ears as he looked out over the moonlit grounds. Everything was still and the preparations had been made. There was nothing left to do but wait. He could hear whispers as students and staff alike, fretted over the impending battle.

Kingsley had prepared his whole life for this, it seemed. But now that the moment was here, he didn't know what to think about it. He certainly wasn't afraid. Fear was not an emotion he was familiar with. Fear did nothing to improve the outcome of any situation. It was impractical.

No, Kingsley did not wait in fear. He waited in anticipation. He pulled out his pocket watch. The black numbers stood out sharply against the white face and the tiny hands ticked loudly as he counted down the final minutes until midnight.

Three.

Two.

He raised his wand and planted his feet on the ground.

One.


	4. Chapter 4

For those of you who don't know, I ship Kingsley/Rosmerta hard. Eventually I will write an actual full-blown oneshot about them, but for now, drabbles will just have to do.

Prompt #4: Turquoise (writer's choice)

* * *

She sounds like clicking heels and fake laughter. The familiar noises call out to you from across the room. But you'll stay where you are, thanks. The view is better from here.

You wonder if she notices you staring. If she does, she is probably used to it. You are just another customer; another loner. There's nothing that separates you from the rest of them leaning over the bar at one in the morning.

Well... except that you're not; you prefer the corner. You raise your glass as she walks by and down the rest of your firewhiskey. She winks at you before heading for the door into a back room.

You decide it's high time you left but as you reach for the door, you turn for a last glance, a last look to take with you. She's barely visible, half of her standing in the doorway, the other half leaning into the adjoining room.

A skirt, a few inches of ankle, a flash of glittering turquoise.

It's enough. You leave for home and tumble into bed. Alone.

And the sound of heels on wood invade your dreams.


	5. Chapter 5

**Prompt #5: comma**

* * *

Kingsley sat at his desk and leaned over the piece of parchment his brow furrowed in concentration. He felt as though he'd read the same sentence over and over again without taking in any of its meaning. Commas and capital letters swam before his eyes.

He finally gave up and leaned back in his chair with his hand over his face. He heard a faint knock on the door and he mumbled something to the effect of 'come in.'

Hermione poked her head inside his office. "Minister?" she said.

He looked over and smiled at her wearily. "Good evening, Hermione. What can I do for you?"

She came in and closed the door behind her. Now that they were alone she spoke with him in a more familiar way. "Kingsley…" She came closer to look down at what he was working on, and then back up at his face. "You're exhausted," she stated. "You work too hard. Go home and rest. It's nearly nine o'clock at night, you know that?"

Kingsley started when she mentioned the time. He took one last loathing look at the piece of parchment before rolling it up and putting it in a drawer.

"Did Hermione Weasley just tell me I work too hard?" he joked as they left his office.

"Shut up."


	6. Chapter 6

**Prompt: highlighted**

* * *

Kingsley set the report on the Minister's desk. He attempted to point out the highlighted areas where Sirius Black could be hiding; that was what Fudge had wanted after all. But the Minister was busy scribbling a letter to Dumbledore again and mumbling about Dementors.

Kingsley cleared his throat loudly, causing Fudge to look up, startled. He glanced at the report on his desk and made his distracted thanks. "Yes, yes. Thank you, Shacklebolt. Well done."

Kingsley opened his mouth again to explain his work, but it was clear Fudge didn't care. He successfully made it out of the office first before rolling his eyes.

Typical.


	7. Chapter 7

It's been a while. Oops.

Prompt #7: Typical

* * *

Kingsley leans against the banister and watches Mundungus snoop through one of the cabinets in Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. He doesn't quite understand why the man is even allowed in the building, seeing as he so far has done nothing to aid the Order at all. His main pursuits seem to be thievery and whining.

Mundungus reaches into a wardrobe in the corner and it suddenly shuts on his arm, clamping down hard to make it impossible for him to get it back out. Kingsley can't help but laugh at the troublemaker's predicament. Clearly the Blacks had put defensive spells on their things to keep intruders out. But it's typical that someone as thick as Mundungus wouldn't realize that.

After a few minutes of struggle, the man clearly begins to panic and Kingsley takes pity on him. He marches into the room and aims a spell at the cabinet which immediately releases the thief's arm and slams shut. A loud clicking noise tells them that the cabinet has locked itself.

Kingsley shakes his head at the man. "You really ought to keep your hands out of other people's things."

Mundungus mumbles his thanks and his eyes shift towards the door, already eager to escape the Auror's intimidating presence. "You won't tell nobody, will ya?"

Kingsley opens his mouth to make a sarcastic remark, but realizes he has better things to do and he ought to be going. He merely jerks his head at the door in annoyance. "Get out."

Mundungus doesn't waste any time.


End file.
